Passing Notes
by Lolizom
Summary: First Enchanter Orsino receives a letter from someone he hasn't heard from in years.


Bloomingtide in Kirkwall was always warm. Warmer still if there was no breeze coming into the city, rare though it did happen. It was on days like these that First Enchanter Orsino hated the robes mages wore. Especially his robes, which were heavy with the many colorful layers and fabrics. He tugged at his collar, feeling the sweat in his hair drip down his neck. If he opened his study door just a bit he was sure a bit of a draft might come in, but that would only make it impossible to ignore the Harpy in the next office over.

"To the Void with this." He murmured, throwing down his quill and reaching beneath his desk and lifting the hem of his robe up and over his knees. That was a bit better, at least his legs didn't feel like they were roasting. Some days he wished he'd taken more time to study the frost spells in his youth, instead of the fire spells. "Never too late to learn, i suppose." but he shook his head at the thought. He'd never been able to reach the level of cool and calm required to master ice. Fire came to him easily. The sound of Meredith's shrieking across the hall only served to remind him why. "She'd have us all tranquil if the Divine would allow it." Shaking his head he leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes, the latest inventory reports could wait.

A knock at his door roused him. Falling asleep at his desk like a minor Initiate during their first lecture on focus, if only his students could see him. "Enter." The door opened to reveal a young Knight, blonde with weary eyes and a mouth set in a strict line. Templars rarely visited him and if so it was always at the request of the Knight-Commander. He sighed deeply. "What does the Knight-Commander want with me now?" Orsino shook his head wearily. He was tired of her constant scrutiny; the last Knight-Commander hadn't been nearly so demanding.

"I am not here on behalf of the Knight-Commander. I am Knight-Captain Cullen, recently in from Kinloch Hold. I was bidden to bring something to you from the First Enchanter. He said he missed you at the last gathering in Cumberland." The last few gatherings in Cumberland, more like. Since he became First Enchanter in 9:15 Dragon, Orsino had never been allowed to venture farther than the docks, and now under Meredith he is not even allowed outside the Gallows. Some days he missed Knight-Commander Guylian, although after what happened in Kirkwall he can understand Meredith's tyrannical rule. No one will hang her from a gibbet anytime soon. "I would also like to inform you, that should you wish to I will see any response makes it to the Circle Tower in Ferelden. With discretion of course." With that the Knight inclined his head as he rested a small envelope on the First Enchanters desk. "With that I'll take my leave." and then he was gone.

Orsino starred at the envelope for a moment, tracing the wax seal of the Circle with his eyes. In nearly 40 years he had not seen that particular seal. He turns the envelope over to see the words "Office of the First Enchanter of Kirkwall" in a shaky script on the front. The ink is as non-descript as the paper, but the handwriting itself is immediately identifiable to him.

"After all this time..." The apprehension Orsino feels merely at the sight of the envelop is bothersome. His heart is hammering and his previously overheated body now seems to have gone cold. His fingers twitch with the urge to open it, but he fears what may or may not be inside. Templars play cruel jokes when they're bored, but this one, if it is such a prank could easily shatter his heart. Is it worth it? "Yes," he decides and snatches the envelope up and tears it open. The smell of fine vellum hits his nose first before he unfolds it to reveal, first a single name.

_Orsino_

His breathe leaves his chest in a shuddering gale. It is not a prank, it is a letter. A letter from a man he hasn't seen nor heard from in 34 years. But even more than that, it is a rewarded hope, an invaluable gift of light amidst the dark despair that threatens every mage in the Free Marches. Orsino closes his eyes against the torrent of relief that threatens to over run him, before continuing to read.

_Orsino,_

_How many years have passed since I was able to simply write your name and hope your eyes would look upon it. Too many, my firend, far far too many. The years here in Ferelden have been a torrent of strife, though things in the Circle have remained dreadfully the same. Gregoir is Knight-Commander now, I doubt you have forgotten him. We fight terribly but I fear he is nothing compared to your own Knight-Commander Meredith. I hear the gossip of the younger templars, they say she is the Holy Sword of Kirkwall, ready to root out corruption in any and all mages. Does divine fire shoot from her eyes? It might as well the way we hear about it here. _

_Uldred is dead, and i'm sure that comes as no shock to you. You remember how full of distain and pride he was. He led a revolt only recently, leading abominations and fade spirits against his fellows. So numerous were they that Gregoir sent for the Rite. If not for the Hero of Ferelden, I surely would not be writing to you now. _

_In fact it is because of these events that I have picked up pen and ink to write to you. I saw my death that day, in Uldred's eyes. I would not cave to his whims to save the whole of the Circle and certainly not to save my own life. And when it was over, and I was not dead and all was at peace as it should be I felt regret. 34 years and I had not tried to contact you. 34 years of loneliness. Of duty before all else. 34 years and I had not allowed myself to think on you for more than a moment, for it was too painful to think of you and not see your face. Perhaps I am an old fool, but when I saw my death and knew it was the end, you were all I could think of. I do not know how many more years I might have, but I could not go another one without at least being able to say I tried._

_I never should have allowed the templars to take you away. It has been agony to be without you. In the years since, I have loved no other, I would have you know that above all else. For years my nights have been filled with dreams of you, my waking hours spent in constant work to hold off the thoughts and despair. _

_Now 34 years since you were taken to Kirkwall I am an old man, nearing the end of his life. This is my confession to you Orsino. Please accept it, and should you cherish even a moment we spent together send your correspondence with Cullen. He is a good man of strong character and you may trust that I will receive any response you send. _

_I have and always shall love you my dear. Do not despair._

_Faithfully yours,_

_Irving_

For a moment Orsino simply starred at the piece of fine animal skin. His hands were shaking. His whole body was trembling and his eyes burned with emotions he'd long thought buried and dead. _love you my dear._ So simple a declaration and yet the most damning words a mage could ever utter. A sweet condemnation Orsino had never thought to hear again. _Do not despair._ Irving had known him so well, better than any of his fellows. Had known how easily frustrated he was when a spell was always just outside his control. Had known how he had despaired when he'd turned 20 and had not yet gone through his Harrowing. Had known him intimately, inside and out. And now in what he expected might be the start of his darkest days, had found a way to uplift his heart.

_Faithfully yours_. Orsino read the single phrase in shaky script again and again, until he could feel the tears he'd held onto for countless years cascade down his finely boned cheeks. _Faithfully Yours_.

"Damn you Irving..." He shut his eyes tight and dropped his face into his hands as the first torrent of sobs broke upon him like the waves of the waking see on the cliffs of Kirkwall. Orsino had regretted many things since coming to Kirkwall, but never before this moment had he regretted all the time that he had lost. He'd known he would never hear from Irving despite how much he'd wished it. He'd known the moment he stepped outside Kinloch Hold, escorted by 3 templars to a ship bound for Kirkwall that what he shared with Irving was over. He'd buried that part of his heart deep inside himself and now in one letter it had all been undone. "He'd be 76 now, old for a human," he thought, "I might have lost him and never knew. He might have died and I would have never..." And that was what it always boiled down to. Orsino was a mage, and like all others his life was to be filled with _nevers_. Most in the Kirkwall Circle would never share a kiss or stand in the rain. Share a glass of cheap beer with a friend. Would never tell stories without the fear of persecution.

"It isn't fair. We're people damn you!" Frustrated tears continued to fall as Orsino continued his mental check of everything he would never have because of his gift. Of all the things every mage was never to have. Was it so much to ask for that they be allowed to live, even a little? Was perseverance in the face of their burdens to truly be the best they could hope for? A pounding at his office door brought him slowly back to himself, just in time to see Knight-Commander Meredith burst through it.

"What is all this blubbering I..." Meredith seemed to take in his shattered appearance and think better of her tirade. "By the Maker, Orsino, are you all right?"

He could not see her, not now. Not when he felt so weak. "Please Meredith, just get out." His breathing began to return to normal as she stood there gawking at him. She seemed to find her sense of decorum only a moment later and her eyes turned to steel as her eyebrows arched sternly.

"You've been making a racket for the last fifteen-"

"I said GET. OUT." Orsino felt his composure slip yet again. A crackle in the air told Meredith that Orsino was only a moment from losing control on his magic and she carefully drew her sword. She was not one to get caught unaware by a mage.

"I will leave when i am assured that you are calm and no longer a danger. Now what has you so hysterical First Enchanter?"

Orsino sighed deeply and put his head back in his hands defeated. He would not even be allowed to mourn his wasted and empty life alone. The templars and the Chantry would forever be watching. _Do not despair_. "You ask the impossible, love." Orsino thought to himself. He took a few deep calming breathes before speaking to the high strung woman in front of him.

"I am calm Knight-Commander, forgive my undignified outburst. Would you, if you see him please send Knight-Captain Cullen to me? I have a letter I need him to see to." No use hiding it, she would know he asked Cullen to do this for him, she always knew what he was up to. Her ever watchful eyes would always be upon him.

Meredith was silent for a great moment. "I will send him along when I see him."

"Thank you Knight-Commander." When he heard the door close Orsino lifted his face from his hands. He smoothed the letter he had crinkled in his fist and looked at it one more time. He lifted it to his face and placed his lips upon Irvings words of love briefly. _love you my dear. _In a world of nevers at least he had this. The love of a man across an ocean who had not laid eyes upon him in 34 years. It was hope and despair all in one, much as the rest of his life had been. He heard his office door open again.

"The Knight-Commander said you wanted to see me First Enchanter." Cullen's voice was strangely hopeful.

"Yes I did." Orsino paused a moment and sighed. Then a fireball engulfed the letter in his hand and his eyes watched it burn to ashes the way his heart had years ago. If only it had stayed that way. Love was not for mages anymore than freedom was. He had to be strong for those in his care. "There will be no letter to send back to Ferelden, Knight-Captain. Thank you for delivering this one."

The Kinght-Captain seemed genuinely shocked, but nodded and left without another word. Orsino was grateful for this


End file.
